


Bloodlust

by drericka



Category: Hotel Transylvania (Movies)
Genre: F/M, a lot of blood drinking, and raw meat eating, sad vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-08-20 23:40:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16565330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drericka/pseuds/drericka
Summary: After marrying Dracula, newly turned Countess Ericka has a taste for real blood over the substitutes her husband and his family drink. Drac can’t help but let her indulge, but worries that the habit may cause problems the longer it goes on.





	1. Chapter 1

On special occasions, Ericka watched her fiancée treat himself to a glass or two of real blood, usually only if said occasion was a romantic one between the two of them. He insisted it was important for vampires, should they want to maintain control over their more monstrous urges, to refrain from consuming blood, but a little here and there wouldn’t hurt. Ericka began to see it as the vampiric equivalent to human’s wine, especially with the way it made Drac act when he’d had a little too much.

The idea of drinking even _substitute_ blood was off-putting when she was still human, but after their wedding, and after she was turned, Ericka quickly understood why animal blood would be a weakness for her husband—it was _exquisite_. Blood Beaters and Near Blood could never compare to the savory, metallic taste of the real thing, no matter how closely they mimicked it. At first, she thought she would indulge in it like chocolate; that while it was delicious, it was something that her tongue would grow tired of after she’d had too much.

But as the months went on, her penchant for the crimson treat only grew, until her want for it was almost insatiable. Drac had assured her that it was normal for a recently-turned vampire to crave it over substitutes, and that it would pass—but he _did_ insist on warning her about her consumption of it. He could do little more than that though, since he was incapable of denying his beloved anything her heart desired, even real blood. He resigned himself to watching her for any aggressive changes in her demeanor, but from all accounts, Dracula only saw a happy wife, which was more than satisfying for himself.

Ericka noted his concern every time he questioned how much she had drunk that day, or if her cravings were waning yet, and she always felt a little badly that she had to inform him that she was still very hungry for it.  Part of her worried that it was more than a passing craving—she had _never_ felt such a pull towards any kind of food or drink like she did towards blood. It was like scratching an itch—something she looked forward to daily, like a child excitedly awaiting dessert after dinner. The less control she had over her need for it, the more she worried, but she didn’t want to alarm Drac. _He_ was the Prince of Darkness, the king of all vampires, the infamous _Dracula_ , and as far as anyone, including herself, was concerned, if someone would be considered a ‘vampire expert’, it would be him. And if _he_ said that it was normal, that was good enough for her.

She reminded herself of that assurance as she stepped down the stairs that lead the castle’s kitchen, eager to find some red meat to eat. Blood was delectable on its own, but there was something about gnawing away while she consumed it that made the meal all the more satisfying. Ericka popped her head into the vast kitchen, and though the cauldron was boiling away inside, she saw no gargoyles working inside the room. She spotted some freshly cut mutton on the table past the fire, and her eyes lit up, fangs poking out between her lips eagerly.

She leaned back to look around the hallway, paranoid that Drac might see her lurking around looking for food, and seeing no one nearby, entered through the large wooden doors. She stepped energetically to the table, the tips of her heeled boots floating just off the ground from the bounce in her stride. The meat haunch glistened invitingly at her, and Ericka replied by swiping it up in her claws and eating away contently, allowing its remaining blood to coat her hands and chin. She polished off the first chunk and didn’t hesitate in tossing away the bone behind her and continuing on to the next one.

The discarded bone bounced across the stone floor, rattling to a stop just a step away from the door. As it settled, the door quietly pushed open a crack, and a mop of curly red hair drifted through the opening. Dennis hovered, careful to not make a sound as he snuck into the kitchen, but was surprised to see not one of the cooks, but Ericka, as the source of the noise inside. He felt even more nervous at that, thinking that his new grandmother catching him stealing from the kitchen could be worse than one of the gargoyles.

He had come with the intent on making off with one of the many large moose bones inside for his best friend, Winnie, but they were unfavorably stacked like wood on the _other_ side of the kitchen. Ericka seemed distracted with her snack, and the boy felt confident enough to continue inside. He jolted when another bone was thrown from the table, clanking against the floor in front of him, but when he looked up, Ericka was still eating, none-the-wiser. He smiled assuredly and continued to the bone pile.

Dennis tapped his chin, trying to decide which one would be the best surprise gift for his friend, and checked the hallow of each one to see how much marrow was left inside, as Winnie insisted that that was the best part. The one that caught his attention the most was a a halved femur, but it was crammed into the pile good and tight. He didn’t doubt he had the strength to pull it out, but he worried if he could do it _quietly_ enough. For a moment he thought about getting Ericka’s attention and lying that he had permission to take a bone, seeing as she was still new to the hotel, but shook it off, reminding himself of the lecture he had gotten about lying after they had returned home from their family cruise.

Carefully, his small hands grasped the bone and began a series of short tugs, looking over his shoulder every few seconds to see if Ericka had noticed him yet. The longer his grandmother paid him no mind, the more confident Dennis felt. He readjusted his grip and pulled hard on the femur, but it barely moved. He tried again, and then once more, and the bone released from the pile, though must faster than he had expected. He flew backwards with it, hitting his back on the side of the hearth oven as he did.

The impact was strong enough to shake loose a tall axe polearm that was poorly secured to the wall, and it tilted over like an executioner’s swing, imbedding itself with a loud _clang_ in the stone right at Ericka’s feet. She jumped in surprise, and immediately turned to the first movement her eyes caught, instinctively vocalizing a vampiric roar at it, too late to realize that said movement was Dennis.

Unfortunately, Drac had poked his head into the kitchen just in time to witness it. After seeing his grandson sneaking to the kitchen, he had decided to follow him, only to be confronted with the scene of his bloodied wife baring fangs at the little boy. He hardly had time to gasp before he flew to his aid, scooping Dennis up and hiding his face against the collar of his cloak.

“ _Ericka!_ ” His voice raised as he lurched above her like a vulture. Ericka gasped, having barely comprehended when Drac grabbed him that _Dennis_ was what was in the room with her.

“Drac! I—” She tried to explain, but he cut her off.

“I _told_ you to watch your blood intake— _look_ at you!” His eyes flickered to the blood caked on her face and hands. “You could have _hurt_ Denisovich!”

Drac turned away, still holding Dennis close, as though he could guard him from the situation itself. Ericka looked over herself, realizing with more clarity how truly horrific she was acting; covered in blood and growling like an animal. Her chest immediately swirled with guilt for her actions, and shame for having let her husband down so enormously. Her shoulders sunk, and she stared at his back painfully.

“Drac…” Ericka’s voice was small. “I didn’t… mean to…”

She ended quietly, deciding before she’d even finished speaking that the excuse was pointless to say. The fingers of her right hand curled over the back of her left, only to flinch away at the sticky feeling of the blood still stuck to them. She turned her hands over, watching the red liquid sheen on her claws, and hung her head sadly. She looked up to Drac’s tight figure once more before retreating from the kitchen, her trained steps silent on the brick flooring.

Ericka was very, _very_ rarely meek, and the tone in her voice made Drac’s heart ping with guilt for yelling at her, something he’d never previously done. But he stood firm, intent on protecting his grandson, even though his eyes darted around fretfully while he tried to think of how to respond. He swallowed hard and turned around to continue scolding his wife.

“You may not have _meant_ to—” His voice stopped in his throat when his eyes could not find Ericka. He looked around worriedly, moving away from the corner of the kitchen to step in half-circles as he tried to locate where she had gone. Only the crackling of fire and the bubbling of the cauldron responded to his silent questioning.

“Papa Drac…?” Came Dennis’ voice from his shoulder, and Drac was immediately reminded of his concerns. He took the boy from his arms and knelt to the ground, standing him up to look him over.

“ _Denisovich, are you okay?_ You didn’t get hurt at all, did you?” Drac asked hurriedly, checking his arms for scrapes. Dennis pouted.

“No.” He fidgeted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, Papa Drac.”

“ _No, no!_ You don’t have anything to be sorry for, spider-monkey—it’s okay.” He tried to assure him, but Dennis still frowned.

“I didn’t mean to scare Nana Ericka… the axe just fell…” He sulked, turning to look sadly at where Ericka had been standing.

“Wh— _scare?_ What do you…” Drac followed Dennis’ line of sight to the polearm’s blade that was imbedded deeply in the floor. His eyebrows arched up in worry, mouth parted slightly, as he began to understand what had actually happened. Was Ericka only being aggressive because she thought that someone was trying to hurt her? It didn’t excuse her lack of control, or consuming all that blood secretly, but he reminded himself that she was still a new vampire, and might overrespond when thinking that she was in danger. He frowned more as he tried to process the events that he had just shortly missed.

“Don’t be mad at Nana Ericka.” Dennis spoke up softly again, almost pleadingly. The comment startled Drac out of his thoughts, and he immediately smiled and shook his head from side to side.

“ _No, no, no_ —I’m not _mad_ at Nana Ericka, it’s alright Dennis—uhm,” He looked around, trying to find something to distract his grandson from such negative thoughts. “— _here!_ ”

Drac snatched up the large bone Dennis had been holding before he had grabbed him and pushed it back into his arms.

“That is for Winnie?” He smiled knowingly. “Or Tinkles?”

Dennis twiddled his fingers and smiled sheepishly.

“Winnie.”

Drac laughed quickly and stood up, spinning Dennis around and hurrying the boy toward the door with his hands on his tiny shoulders.

“Oh, good, _good!_ So, _you_ go give that to Winnie and, uh, _I_ will go talk with Nana Ericka.” He smiled too wide. Dennis stopped at the door, looking up at him earnestly.

“You won’t yell at her again, right Papa?” He asked with another pout. Drac forced his smile to stay on his face.

“No, no, no more yelling, I promise.” He nodded. “We will just talk about the um, the misunderstanding, you pointed out, Denisovich.”

He said it as though he was praising Dennis for helping, and Dennis smiled happily at that. Drac continued nodding, and gave his grandson a few little pats on the back to scoot him in the direction of the stairs.

“Alright, you go! You go do that, _ahah_ , yes…” He encouraged Dennis until he’d gotten to the first round in the stairwell, then burst at superspeed the opposite way down the hallway, rushing to find Ericka before she got too far.

He turned up a cloud of dust in his wake, zig-zagging through the lower hallways until he reached a passage that lead up into the active levels of the hotel, looking around in remorseful concern all the while. Drac saw no sign of his wife on the way to the lobby, and he wondered if he should have also taken the stairs with Dennis, but he had no time for doubt in his searching. The count grabbed the first knight he saw and frantically informed him, and with him, all of the spirits that bound the battalion, that he needed a location on Ericka.

The guard shook his helmet, and told his lord that he had not seen the countess that evening. Drac made a strangled sound in his throat and clawed at the air.

“ _Find her_ , and tell me as soon as you do!” He ordered, frustrated, then took off in bat form, hoping he may have better luck from above.

He flew through the revolving door and up the outside of the castle walls, entering one of their bedroom windows in hopes that she might have retreated there. He looked through the room and its connecting areas, but could not find her anywhere within in their chambers, nor in any of the public quarters Ericka favored.

The more he failed to find her, the more frantic Drac became. He chastised himself as he hurried from room to room, ashamed for shouting at her, and for jumping to conclusions—even if he was right to not take any chances when it came to Dennis’ safety, once his grandson was in his company, he was confident that Ericka would have been unable to hurt him even if she _wanted_ to, which she _didn’t_ in the first place. He should have questioned her, or been softer instead of accusing her of endangering their grandson.

Ericka’s pitiful voice haunted him, and he was sure it would continue to do so until he found her and could apologize for his behavior, and ask about her own, too.

He entered the hotel bar on the verge of ripping out his own hair, when he spotted Griffin and Wayne, the only two members of his ‘pack’ currently staying in the hotel. A gust of wind hit them as Drac stopped sharply at their table, his cape billowing over his shoulder before settling back behind him. Griffin’s glasses pinched tightly, and both monsters brought up their hands to wipe away the dust that had launched into their eyes.

“Jeez Drac, what’s the—”

“ _Have either of you seen Ericka!?_ ” Drac didn’t let his invisible friend finish his complaint, his loud voice startling the drowsy bar patrons nearby. Wayne and Griffin looked to each other, wondering what nonsense their friend had gotten himself into now.

“Um, no.” Wayne replied dryly.

“What’d you do now, buddy?” Griffin asked. If Drac could have seen the sarcastic smile on his face he would have slapped it right off.

“ _I…_ ” Drac started, his voice again too loud, but then closed his mouth nervously. His head sunk into his shoulders and he hunched over to keep their conversation a little more private. “We… had a little, um, tiff…”

“A _tiff_?” The two replied in disbelief.

“What kind of _tiff_ could the two of you possibly get into when you worship the ground she walks on?” One of Griffin’s lenses lowered as he cocked an eyebrow. Drac frowned more, guilt weighing on him at the mention of how normally sweet and sugary their relationship was. His poor Ericka, he thought, her trust in him must be so betrayed.

He went to explain when one of the knights burst through the west door of the bar. He turned his head around to see the commotion, and felt a ping of hope as the guard ran up to him with clanking steps.

“Sire,” The knight stood at attention with a quick salute, “the countess was seen crossing the castle bridge by several guests this evening.”

Drac’s expression dropped from the news. His mind began racing again, imagining all sorts of horrible things; Was Ericka just taking a walk in the woods to cool off? What if she got lost, or injured somehow? What if she didn’t make it back by daybreak? What if she was _leaving_ him?

The idea of their union even _possibly_ ending made him feel physically ill. Without responding to the knight, Drac whipped back around to the table and roused his friends from their seats with his magic, levitating them into a huddle.

“You _must_ help me find Ericka.” He pleaded. “She could still be lost, or _worse!_ I need to find her and apologize!”

Wayne and Griffin again shared a glace. They didn’t believe that Ericka, who was physically capable even _before_ she was a vampire, would have any trouble staying safe in the surrounding areas—both were in silent agreement that Drac was just being dramatic, like usual. But they also knew they had little choice in the matter, since refusing would invoke Drac’s demonic wrath, so they relented, albeit cynically.

“Alright Drac, we’ll help you find her.” Wayne spoke for them both, and Drac beamed through his nervousness. He urged his friends to hurry and take a hearse to search the roads, while he flew above and checked wooded areas.

“And if you find her, call me _immediately!_ ” He demanded, then disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke.

Griffin and Wayne watched his bat form shoot out of the fog and fly out of the bar before dragging their heels to do as he said.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where has Ericka gone...

Ericka fluttered her white wings, hovering for a moment in the forest before setting down and returning to her usual physical form. She normally felt deeply peaceful when exploring the vast wilderness around the castle, adoring how different the alpine mountains were to anything she’d seen during her life on the sea, but tonight the towering trees and soft rustling of the wind only made her feel lonely. She was uncertain why she had come out this far, knowing it wouldn’t do anything to fix what had transpired, but after everything, Ericka felt like distance was the best thing she could offer her new family.

A persistent feeling of dread enveloped her, thinking about how she had reacted to poor Dennis startling her. Even now, she looked back on it as a normal reaction from herself, only more monstrous—which she thought was fine, since she _is_ a monster now. If she had been human, she would have screamed just the same at an axe falling at her feet, but since she was a vampire now, it was much more terrifying. She had seen Drac roar similarly at the staff or his friends at the drop of a hat, but clearly what she had done was much different—likely because it involved Dennis.

Ericka would never hurt her grandson, but her newly changed body told her that her reaction was normal, that her person was something that needed defending and that was all that she had done. That feeling filled her with horror, and she desperately wished her new instincts agreed with her remorse about scaring Dennis, and disappointing her husband.

The countess held her arms and started walking along the game trail, following the matted brush further away from the castle. The thought of Drac made her spirit heavy, and her pace slowed.

Drac never had so much as a cross word for her before tonight, and while she loved his scowl, when it was directed at her it made her feel small and useless. She scolded herself, trying to convince her hurt feelings that he had every right to be upset with her, but it didn’t make her feel any better. Ericka wondered if he was still angry with her now, or if she would even be welcomed back to the hotel after tonight. She wished so desperately that she hadn’t gone down to the kitchen, maybe then things would still be normal, and her husband wouldn’t be disgusted with her. She wished that she could control these cravings, wished that they weren’t debilitating in their desire for blood and gore.

And the worst of it was that she was _still hungry_.

Ericka’s stomach tightened in response to her thoughts, and she placed a hand over it while she walked, doing her best not to think about how delicious a big chalice of blood sounded right now. She continued following the trail until her boot scuffed against something other than dirt, and she looked down to see that it was the beginning of a cobblestone path. Her eyes blinked at the half-buried pathway, and her sight raised to see that it became more pronounced further ahead, making a makeshift fork between it and the game trail. She decided to follow the cobbled road out of curiosity.

For the most part the path was overgrown, having grass flourishing in between its stones, and branches and small logs sprawled across its length. She traveled on it for a good fifteen minutes before it started to show a hint of maintenance, and Ericka naturally began to listen for any sounds of movement or life, but was only offered the scampering of small forest animals, nothing that would be capable of caring for pavement. The pathway led up to a small bricked fence that stopped short of Ericka’s hips, and was covered in lovely, delicate vines.

She stepped through the wooden gate, distracted from her self-pity for a moment by her own inquisitiveness. A small light ahead was all she could focus on, and she walked slowly while she made her way toward it. As she got closer, she realized that the light was modest streetlamp, and as she passed through some brush, saw that she was in a business’ garden. Her back straightened, feeling uneasy about being near humans if her craving for blood really was so dreadful.

But as she reached sidewalk that the path lead to, she saw no sign of people nearby. The streets were quiet, likely due to the late hour, and all of the businesses along the road were dark inside. Ericka looked around at the quaintness of the little hamlet, travelling through it like a meandering ghost in the night. She peered into a few storefronts, finding most of them to be specialty stores for clothing and specific repairs, or charming bakeries, patisseries, and cafés—but one in particular caught her eye; a butcher’s shop.

Her eyes sparkled at the sight of so many different kinds of meats displayed within the counters’ refrigerated shelves. She could feel her mouth salivating, unable to feel too guilty about it when a cure for her undying hunger was so close. Ericka looked around to make sure she really was alone, before taking the handle of the shop’s lattice front door. A soft rattle let her know that it was locked, but to her new supernatural strength, a lock was little more than a weak, fraying tether.

She felt some remorse as she settled her claws against the glass, but knew that she would be able to pay for a replacement door and the stores depleted stock very easily. She punched through the glass, only meaning to break the area closest to the knob, but underestimated her strength and shattered the entirety of the door. Ericka could only blink in shock, fist still extended.

“Oops.” She smiled sheepishly, then moved to unlock the deadbolt. Luckily, there was no alarm.

Her boots crunched on the broken glass like fallen snow, but her growling stomach left no room in her for guilt—the smell of curing and raw meat was so strong inside the butchery that the countess couldn’t think of anything besides eating her fill.

 

* * *

 

Griffin drove along the dark, dirt road, complaining all the way to his werewolf companion.

“—and y’know, I am absolutely _sure_ that Drac is blowing this all out of proportion.” He spoke cynically. “I know he didn’t tell us exactly _what_ this was all about, but I just feel it.”

“Yeah.” Wayne agreed with his head hanging out of the window, voice raised to compete against the wind in his face. “But you know how it is. This’ll all blow over by the end of the night.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Griffin rolled his eyes.

The hearse took a sharp turn, but neither monster was bothered by the tilting of the car. It straightened out after a hard left, settling again on it’s four wheels.

“We’ve already been out here an _hour_ —I doubt Ericka went this far.” He added tiredly. Wayne pulled his head back inside.

“She’s probably at the hotel, but you _know_ Drac’ll go totally bat-poop if we didn’t make sure.” The wolfman gave him a knowing look before jutting his face back out into the wind. Griffin pushed further into his seat unhappily.

“ _Yeahhh_.” He drug out. Just as he opened his mouth to gripe again, lights in the distance distracted him. “— _Hey look!_ A town.”

Griffin stepped on the gas, eager for some scenery that wasn’t shadowy woodlands. He slowed the hearse as they crossed the threshold of the town gates, but as they drove through the main and back streets, they saw no one.

“I guess it _is_ kinda late.” Griffin commented while he looked around, and Wayne agreed with a nod. They avoided the residential areas and made a right onto a road that returned to what looked like more businesses. Griffin grumbled, ready to head back to the main street when Wayne grabbed his head and pointed it in the direction of a store.

“Look!” He insisted, but Griffin only screamed and stomped on the breaks. The hearse swiveled and spun before coming to a stop on the opposite side of the road.

“Are you insane!? You could have made me _crash!_ ” He huffed, but Wayne only turned the invisible man’s head back to the same store.

“Look.” His voice was more concerned this time, and Griffin quickly saw why. The window of the store had darling cursive writing on it, defining it as a butcher’s shop. There was a wooden sign that had cut meat carefully painted on it, which hung over the store’s most noticeable feature; its open, broken front door.

The two monsters looked to each other in worry, both wondering to themselves exactly _what_ Drac and Ericka’s fight had been about if it really was the countess that had broken into a _butchery_ of all places. Hesitantly, they got out of the vehicle to go investigate. They snuck across the street, ducking habitually behind a mailbox and potted hedges until they reached the front window of the store. Both slowly peered over the side of the doorframe and into the dark store.

Inside they could see the now familiar figure of Countess Ericka, her all white outfit seemingly glowing within the blackness of the room. Griffin and Wayne winced, unnerved, at the sound of her feasting on _something_ , and the town’s emptiness suddenly seemed much more ominous.

“Oh, _please_ don’t let that be the owner…” Griffin mumbled. Ericka’s posture suddenly changed, and she whipped around to stare at them, her illuminated blue eyes making both of them scream.

Ericka’s stance relaxed, though remained quite surprised from seeing her husband’s friends here. The men noticed an open ribcage laying on the counter behind her, and one long, half-eaten rib jutting out from her grip. Even though it was clearly too large to be a human bone, the sight of Ericka’s face, arms, and chest smeared with blood, obviously from consuming raw meat, unnerved both Wayne and Griffin.

“H-hey, Ericka!” Griffin started anxiously. “What, uh, what’cha eatin’ there?”

Ericka frowned tiredly, aware that her cravings had again made other monsters uneasy.

“If you’re here, that means Drac is looking for me, I imagine?” She spoke calmly.

“Um, well, _yeah_ —” Wayne began.

“—Yeah! _Yeah_ , he’s _super_ worried about you.” Griffin continued, laughing nervously. Ericka didn’t seem comforted by that. She sighed, resigned to whatever fate she’d ensured for herself, and turned back to her meal.

“You can tell him I’m here. I won’t leave.” She informed them quietly, turning the rib over in her hands.

Griffin and Wayne hesitated, but decided it was best to let Drac handle whatever _this_ was, and ran back across the street to the relative comfort of the hearse.

 

* * *

 

Drac flew as fast as his wings could carry him when he got the call from Griffin that they had located Ericka—a ‘small town, near the one that holds Monster Fest’, he’d said. It only took him a few minutes to reach the village and spot the hearse, but it felt like _hours_. He set down beside the car quickly, spinning around while he looked for Ericka.

“ _Where is she?_ ” He snapped at Wayne when he approached, but his face fell from the uncomfortable look the werewolf gave him.

“She’s… in there.” He pointed a claw toward the butcher’s shop behind them. Drac followed his hand, and upon seeing the title of the store and the broken glass, dropped his mouth in concern. He looked to his friends for any kind of comfort, but their inability to meet his gaze filled him with even more worry.

“She’s—she’s _alright_ , isn’t she?” He asked nervously.

“ _Yeahhh_ , she’s… alright…” Griffin looked up and away from his friend. “She’s just… soaked in blood, and all that.”

Drac’s eyebrows raised in concern, mouth even further agape, before taking his face in his hand and rubbing over his mouth to try to relax himself.

“ _Oh, Ericka…_ ” He mourned, desperately worried about his beloved. She was always a woman with so much self-control, _how_ could she be doing something as thoughtless as breaking into businesses just to consume _meat?_ It was the kind of mindlessness he’d expect from a human-turned-vampire that starved in a crypt, buried in common fashion only to rise from the grave desperately hungry for a meal, not a well-cared-for countess that has never known true hunger for blood.

Drac sighed sharply and squared his shoulders, deciding that regardless of what condition Ericka was in, he needed to be supportive and careful with her. None of this changed his love for her—she was his _zing!_

He regarded his friends with a tight nod and settled his cape over his chest, then slid across the street as coolly as he could. His figure became more rigid as he approached the doorway, hearing the sounds of chewing with his keen ears, but he pushed forward, stopping to fill up the arch with his imposing shape.

Ericka tore away the last bit of meat from the rib she was eating, and tossed it aside onto the floor with the others. Drac’s form eclipsing the light from the street did not go unnoticed, and she turned to look at him casually. He frowned slightly at the red coating her chin and arms, though he found it grotesquely beautiful on her, despite his concern.

“Hi blood-drop…” He smiled softly and took few hesitant steps across the glass that spilled beyond the entryway. The crunching of the broken pieces drew Ericka’s attention toward them for just a moment before she looked away uncomfortably, ashamed in hindsight of her desperation. She knew Drac was likely mortified with her behavior, and while she had accepted that she was going to be reprimanded for it, that acceptance didn’t stop her from fearing what he would say. Drac noted her discomfort with a small pout before continuing.

“What are… you doing in here?” He asked, doing his best to appear gentle and understanding to make up for his unforgiving tone before. Ericka sighed, shaking her head and sucking idly on her bottom row of teeth, freeing strings of meat from between her fangs.

She knew he was trying to be sweet, which only made her feel guilty. She half-expected him to inform her rather coldly what she did was inexcusable, but instead it seemed like he wanted to make peace about it, and she wasn’t sure if she could with her body acting against her—she worried it might not be safe for her to return home at all.

Drac approached her after she remained silent, hesitantly placing a hand on her back.

“Honey, I’m so sorry for… raising my voice at you like that. Denisovich told me about how the axe fell—was that it? You were just startled?” His saddened voice pitched up eagerly as he questioned her, hoping this would resolve quickly. Ericka looked up to him, and he pouted again from the unhappy gloss her eyes had.

“Yes.” She moved to watch the floor again. “The axe startled me but…”

Ericka sighed again.

“I wasn’t supposed to be there anyway. I was eating all this animal blood, even though you told me not to.” She spoke despondently, shaking her head as she did. “And I _still_ am.”

Her sight lifted to the pile of semi-frozen meat she’d accumulated on the countertop, Drac following to stare at it as well. His mouth slanted uneasily, but he was always willing to forgive and forget when it came to his family.

“That’s okay, apple-core!” He smiled. “It’s fine! _Really_ —I made a big deal out of nothing.”

Ericka frowned deeper the more he rambled.

“It’s _not_ fine!” She looked back up at him, upset, but Drac continued.

“It is—!” He insisted.

“ _It’s not!_ ” Ericka yelled, sharp enough to cut him off. She frowned, dejected, when he looked at her with his mouth curved down in uncertainty. She turned away, pacing toward the counter.

“None of this is ‘okay’, Drac, none of this is ‘fine’!” She huffed while she walked in circles. “I can’t _stop!_ I—I can’t… I can’t even think straight! All I want to do is eat, and eat— _look_ at me!”

Ericka stopped and faced him, holding out her arms to display her bloodied self with an uneasy grimace. Drac looked her over with worry, knowing full well this could be a very _big_ problem, but was unwilling to let Ericka think so. He moved toward her again as she let her arms drop to her sides.

“Honey…” He placed his palms on her shoulders, thumbing at her bare skin comfortingly. His wife looked up to him with pathetic eyes.

“I’m just so _hungry_ , love.” Her voice waned tiredly. “I’m so hungry, and all I want to eat is _this_.”

Her hand gestured aimlessly at the blood-smeared floor, riddled with bones picked clean from her gnawing. Dracula frowned more, and took her chin between his thumb and index finger, gently lifting her head. He couldn’t help but smile despite the potential gravity of the situation—she was so precious looking when she was vulnerable. Her eyes flickered down.

“I’m afraid that I’m becoming something people should fear… that you would be ashamed of.” She confessed, knocking Drac away from any warm thoughts.

“ _What!?_ Honey-bat, never _ever_ think that!” He exclaimed before pulling her tight, arms doubled across her smaller frame.

Ericka pressed her ear to his chest, surprised by the gesture, before melting miserably against him, having feared she would never again receive such a deep hug from her husband. She clung to his back, tangling up a patch of his cape under her claws as she did so.

“ _I’m so sorry_ —I didn’t mean to scare Dennis like that—” She tried, but Drac only shushed her.

“No, no, no, darling, don’t worry about that. I told you, Dennis explained what happened.” He assured her, rubbing her back as he spoke. “ _I’m_ the one who should be sorry, Ericka. I should not have jumped to such an awful conclusion—I know it… surely influenced to how you are feeling right now.”

Ericka sniffed, shaking her head again, and pulled away to look at him.

“What other conclusion could you have possibly come to, walking into something like that?” She asked.

“The _right_ one.” Drac smiled and gave her a quick peck on the lips. The kiss appeared to have the desired effect, and Ericka replied with a soft, airy laugh. He watched her with building affection, his attention caught again by the stains on her lips.

“You’re so cute with streaks of blood on your mouth…” He whispered with a tiny smile. The comment caught Ericka off guard, and she scoff-laughed, trying to turn her face away again, only to have Drac move to cup her cheek in his palm. She looked up at him, habitually placing her hand over the back of his as she did. He regarded her bloodied hand kindly before taking her fingers in his grasp and bringing them to his lips.

“And hands.” He added as he set a kiss on her knuckles, licking away any blood that transferred onto his smile. Ericka giggled.

“ _Drac_.” She smirked, trying to sound exasperated with his flirting. He grinned with a shrug.

“It’s normal for a vampire to appreciate his wife after she’s been feeding, _I_ think.” He tilted his chin up proudly, and Ericka rolled her eyes. She got another kiss for that, this time smushed against her cheek. Drac took her hands, bringing her across the floor in a fluid turn.

“Why don’t we return to the castle,” He hummed. “and have the doctor look into it. I’m sure if your cravings are this severe, that there is something modern monster medicine can do about it.”

Ericka puffed while she let her husband guide her around the carnage she had left across the floor, unsure about going back home so soon. Their forearms bumped when he pulled her close again.

“You don’t think it’s… dangerous? For me to be around everyone right now?” She pouted. Drac shook his head.

“No, I don’t.” He smiled again, settling his hands on her waist. “You aren’t out here hunting live game—you broke into a butcher shop to eat a bunch of choice cuts.”

He snickered, kicking away a piece of glass.

“I’ll need to write a check to the owner for the um… expenses.” Drac mumbled while he looked around. Ericka groaned, embarrassed again.

“If you… really think it’s alright, I’ll go home with you.” She relented—she had no idea where else she would go to escape the coming sunrise anyway. Drac beamed at that and quickly snatched a notepad out from the depths of his cape. He scribbled a message to the shop owner and left it on the countertop neatly, as though it was an organized business desk, and not a counter slapped with bloody hand prints and bones.

“You’ll see, my love!” His wide smile remained as he turned and set his hand on the arch of her back, leading her to the door. “I’m sure it will be an easy solution, perhaps just a daily supplement.”

Ericka’s mouth pinched to one side, unsure if there was any weight to Drac’s confidence, but decided to again trust him on vampire matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be done weeks ago, but I got stuck at the reunion part... oh well.
> 
> This should also be the end, but I decided to add one more little chapter in epilogue, so there!


	3. Epilogue

After an awkward hearse-ride back to the hotel, Drac escorted his wife up to the castle’s infirmary, which had been expanded on greatly after the arrival of Dennis almost a decade ago. Mavis made sure the whole floor was equipped with top notch equipment, just in case Dennis or any human guests needed urgent care—and Drac took it upon himself to include some updated practices for monsters as well. Ericka had been inside the office for check-ups, especially during her turning process shortly after their wedding, but it was still a relatively foreign place within the castle to her, and it made her a little uneasy.

“M’lord,” The doctor spoke in a heavy, old British accent, snapping on a mask with thick fingers that looked more like pickles than digits. “the countess will have to have her examination privately. Patient confidentiality and all that.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Drac steamed, arguing with the doctor much to his wife’s embarrassment. She watched him gesture wildly while he insisted that it was _his_ hotel and the doctor was _his_ employee, and that _he_ should be able to do whatever he wants, while Ericka worried about exactly what tests they would perform on her that Drac couldn’t be present for. He had accompanied her for her first physical, but that was the kind that tested your reflexes with a knee-knocker, and put a tongue depressor in your mouth, nothing serious.

The thought of the medical staff concluding that she was suffering from some heinous, incurable human-to-vampire condition chewed at the back of her mind. What if she was deemed a danger to her family and guests, and would need to be locked in a dungeon or something equally typical for beasts unfit for social interaction? She sighed, knowing that she was letting overexaggerated fear cloud her judgement—maybe she would just have to wear a muzzle like a temperamental dog instead.

“It’s just policy, count, not to worry.” The doctor seemed unphased by Dracula’s tantruming, casually putting on his gloves with two more quick snaps. Drac glared at them accusingly, as if they’d already touched his wife inappropriately just by existing.

“Drac, just go, please.” Ericka groaned, her face in one of her hands. He appeared at her side, pushing his face against her ear.

“Honey, are you _sure?_ I could—”

“ _Go_ , go.” She lamented, waving him off. “The sooner this is over with the better.”

She had always been one to ‘bite the bullet’, so to speak, and she wanted the answer for her ever-growing desire for blood as quickly as possible. Drac seemed unwilling, looking distractedly at all of the utensils at the doctor’s disposal, as well as the flimsy examination gown he assumed Ericka would change into. After another push from Ericka, he finally relented and left the room, though Ericka could see his form lurking around outside the frosted window of the door.

“Alright m’lady, we’re just going to do a quick blood test for… levels, things like that, you know, and then while that’s goin’ we’ll check out everything else. Sound good?” He seemed chipper, and Ericka smiled back uncomfortably.  

“Sounds… good.” She swallowed, trying to relax her nerves.

 

* * *

 

Drac thought he’d go mad before the door finally opened. A zombie technician slowly stepped out and raised his clipboard up to read, his legs shaking to keep himself upright. Drac frowned in annoyance at the zombie’s groaning as he struggled to read what was scrawled on the pad, and the vampire flashed up to his side impatiently to look at the page.

“It’s _me!_ You _know_ he’s calling _me_ in!” He yelled at him angrily, stabbing Ericka’s name on the patient list with an aggressive tapping of his nail, before slipping hurriedly past the zombie and into the room again.

He was met by the sight of Ericka in her patient gown, sitting with her knees together on the examination table, and staring at her feet with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. Drac gaped a moment before quickly settling at her side, looking her over frantically.

“ _What’s wrong, spider-silk?_ ” He asked before growing agitated again. “Did he do anything that he _shouldn’t?_ ”

Ericka’s eyes got even wider at Drac’s suggestion, and she gave him a quick slap on the arm.

“N-no! _No_ , you— _stupid_ —” She kept her chastising to a whispery grumble as the doctor reentered the room.

She placed her hands on her knees, wriggling awkwardly while Drac straightened to tower beside her protectively. The doctor paid him no mind, flipping through the chart in his hands with a smile.

“Not to fret, all of the countess’s vitals are normal, all the reflexes are normal—and then we got the bloodwork back.” He reached out to grab Drac’s hand, not noticing the flinch the count gave from his pause at ‘bloodwork’.

“ _Congratulations_ , m’lord! The countess is pregnant.” The doctor beamed a smile full of mangled teeth, wholeheartedly shaking the count’s hand, uncaring that Drac’s arm was little better than a loose rope at the moment. “The hunger started about a month ago, so we’re thinkin’ she’s just a little ways along, but we’ll run more tests, of course.”

Drac gawked. Of all the things he thought could be the cause of Ericka’s cravings, he never imagined _that_.

“P… pregn—?” He gasped, then turned to Ericka, who was still sitting meekly behind him. “ _Pregnant!?_ ”

Ericka looked up to him shyly, clearly as surprised about the news as he was. She pursed her lips together and smiled sheepishly, shrugging as her only reply.

Drac’s mouth slowly cracked into a wide smile, and after a moment, he cried out with joy, startling every patient and staff member on the entire floor. He scooped up Ericka into his arms, spinning excitedly as the revelation really sunk in. It was comical—all of this worry about suppressing her cravings, and feeling like she was dying to have more blood, and it was just normal pregnancy cravings!

“Oh, honey!” He cackled, careful not to drop her as he swayed. “All of that—it was just because you were craving something you _like!_ Like _any_ expecting mommy!”

Ericka blushed more at the mention of herself as a ‘mommy’ as she held onto Drac around his neck, unable to do anything else with his hectic movements.

"And when you growled—of course you would be over-protective of your body right now! You're carrying a baby!" Drac danced around with her excitedly, only to suddenly stop mid-step, with a grave “oh no”.

Ericka looked up to him in worry. She had been unsure how he would take the announcement, and wondered if he was backtracking with his enthusiasm now.

Drac carefully lowered her legs to the ground, but kept her torso in his embrace as they both stood.

“That means you were pregnant when I yelled at you!” He gasped, distraught.

Ericka blinked, surprised at the underwhelming reason behind his upset.

“What?” She half-laughed, only to be yanked closer and held dramatically by her husband.

“I _yelled_ at my _pregnant wife!_ ” He cried out, disgusted with himself. “I should never yell at you, but definitely not when you’re _pregnant!_ ”

His hands gripped over the back of Ericka’s head and shoulders in a panic, leaving his wife confused and smashed up against his collar. She decided not to bring up that it wasn’t as though he was _aware_ of the pregnancy at the time.

“— _But don’t worry, darling!_ ” He lifted her back up. “I will make it all up to you! You can have all the blood you want to drink, and all the red meat you can eat! And anything else you want…!”

He held her bridal style and spun her once more for good measure.

Ericka giggled, finally relaxing after such a stressful evening. She settled her head on his shoulder and enjoyed a well-deserved breath before she had to dive into the new world of an expecting mother.

“I think… I will try and stick strictly to Blood Beaters from now on, my love.” She hummed tiredly. “But I could really go for a ham shank.”

His smile met hers in a gleeful kiss.

“ _Yes!_ A ham shank—maybe two! I bet that nice little butcher’s shop you found tonight would love to supply you with what you need for the baby!” Drac mused as he carried her out of the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH-HAH-HAH... it was all just a monster pregnancy craving joke! I fooled you all. (kidding) LMAO
> 
> Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed the madness.
> 
> (And if any of you follow my baby storyline on tumblr, this is not how I imagine Ericka's pregnancy going with Diavolo... just fyi)


End file.
